


Sleepless

by sakasamasa



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bad Writing, Character Death, Established Relationship, M/M, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 18:42:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakasamasa/pseuds/sakasamasa
Summary: 95. "I never liked it, I lied."Adaar had another nightmare. With little else to do than await the coming dawn, he reminisces about the past.Drabble request for a very good and very patient friend from Tungler that got way too long, so I'm posting it here.





	Sleepless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [achildofyavanna (Minionfromthedark)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minionfromthedark/gifts).



> For Frerin! Hope you like it :'~D Again, I'm super sorry the first request didn't work out, and I hope this one will kind of make up for the long wait!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: None of the events in this ficlet are canon. I just thought it'd be interesting to expand upon the meager canonical role of the Valo-Kas in the Dragon Age universe. Hope you like the angsty, probably error-filled mess my brain has cooked up in a day.
> 
> A big thank you to Tumblr user prompt-bank for creating the Drabble Challenge post: https://prompt-bank(.)tumblr.com/post/143272225898/drabble-challenge-1-150

"I never liked it. I lied. But I couldn't let them wander the streets of Val Royeaux on their own, not so shortly after what happened in Kirkwall."

Adaar huffed out a mirthless laugh, looking out from the balcony to a quiet, desolate Skyhold. Lanterns lit up the courtyard like beacons within the darkness, casting shadows against stone. Very few would be awake at this time, the coming morrow just an hour or so away. It wasn't by choice that Adaar was now painfully restless. Were it not for the nightmare that rudely jolted him out of a peaceful slumber, he would not have to see the sun rise from behind the faraway mountaintops that were now still encased in shadow.

Along the way, distressing dreams had become a more frequent occurrence, resulting in many sleepless nights and unpleasant mornings. Tonight was no exception, as Adaar was roused by yet another nightly terror of bygone times, though waking up just before morning instead of the middle of the night could be counted as a small mercy.

Now, he was outside his chamber, leaning against the balcony railing. Dorian stood listening by his side, stubbornly bent on staying awake with him until he deemed fit, even in the chilly air of the early morning.

"Hissra and Meraad insisted on dragging me along to every shop and stand in the city, every landmark and street, despite all the stares and disapproving looks from civilians."

He paused, recalling the unfortunate event that befell them shortly after. The polished streets of Val Royeaux, even at the height of a sunny spring,  suddenly felt so cold.

"One human merchant in the marketplace started accusing us of stealing. Soon enough, other Royans happily joined in, calling us thieves and oppressors. Some civilians even brandished their weapons at us. I'll never forget the look on Hissra's face. She didn't deserve that, none of us did." 

Adaar grimaced at the memory. The dismay and disgust in the merchant's eyes clear as day, all heads turning to see what the commotion was about, and Hissra taken aback by the debacle unfolding before her. Lively, kindhearted and curious Hissra could only look as she was bombarded with insults and slurs, her eyes forlorn and her shoulders slumped in a way that made Adaar's heart sink. In contrast, Meraad was fuming, eyes wild and narrow like a cornered animal. He was scarcely keeping himself from jumping into the fray, hand on the hilt of his dagger beneath the fabric of his cloak.  The guards had escorted them out of the town square, their forced politeness only barely hiding the equally distrustful expressions that crossed their faces.

"At the time, I didn't understand what had happened. We were used to the looks and the ogling, but nothing like this. We weren't in Kirkwall. We didn't belong to the Qun. We weren't there to take over the city. We didn't even fucking steal anything!"

A gentle hand on his upper arm brought Adaar back to the present, and suddenly he was mindful of his raised voice. He turned to see Dorian casting him a sympathetic, understanding look.

"You probably know what that feels like, right?"

"Unfortunately, I do," Dorian sighed, "nothing as bad as what you experienced, no, but most Southern Thedosians generally aren't very eager when a  _Vint_   shows up on their doorstep. It's even worse when they realize that said Vint carries a staff around."

Adaar smiled cynically, ignoring the stab of anger that embedded itself deep in his chest. He was used to the discrimination and name calling, but in a way that resembled a slave being used to their chains. It was something he begrudgingly accepted as normalcy, yet he would gladly be rid of it, given the chance.

After a comfortable silence, Adaar spoke again, his voice now quieter and calmer.

"Meraad and our leader Shokrakar got into an argument shortly after we returned to the guild," he continued, "A stupid argument that would always end the same way."

" _ That's just how humans are _ ," He repeated the words as they echoed in his mind. Meraad asked her if that meant they would never belong or be accepted anywhere; to never be seen or treated as equal no matter where they went. Shokrakar fell silent at that, faltering in her steps as she halted.

" _ We have each other _ ," was the last thing she said before she stormed off, leaving the three of them to hang their heads in defeat.

Her words served as a cold comfort, but a comfort nonetheless, which is more kindness than anyone could expect from Shokrakar. Hissra was unusally quiet during the argument, looking onto Meraad's indignant fury and fervor with what Adaar could only decipher as envy. 

"Hissra and Meraad are-"

He misspoke, and inwardly cursed himself for it.

"They were good people, more scholars than mercenaries. If it wasn't for these blighted horns on our heads, they could've pursued their interests, lived a better life rather than die in a cave at the hands of men."

Dorian's hand moved from his arm to envelop his tightly, calloused fingers wrapping around his in a gesture of consolation. Adaar squeezed his hand and offered him a grateful but solemn smile in response.

" _ They were so young _ ," died on his lips as a forgotten afterthought. Not because he didn't want to say it, but because he was afraid it might betray the overflowing sadness that abruptly blossomed in his throat.

Emotions welled up inside him like an oncoming storm, but he pushed them back down. He was done mourning, and there was nothing to be gained from lamenting his losses. Burying the grief, he collected himself and took a deep breath, the air of a cold summer morning filling his lungs.

"Say, Dorian?"

The other hummed inquisitively.

"If we- when all this is over, would you like to come with me when I  go to visit them?"

A pause, long enough to make Adaar doubtful and retrace his steps in fear of having said something out of line.

"Yes," Dorian said resolutely, an underlying and unprecedented enthusiasm in his voice. He rested his head against Adaar's shoulder and looked towards the oncoming dawn.

"I'd like that."

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr is hilariously-infuriating(.)tumblr.com if anyone else wants to shoot me a drabble request! The ask box is open!


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